Fifteen Years of Pursuing a Cute Brit
by OneGirlStudio
Summary: Love can make people do very meaningful  but still self-destructive  things. It was no different in their case... loosely based on the song '15 Years of Pursuing a Cute Boy' by Hatsune Miku. Rated T for language. A Oneshot. A REQUEST FIC FOR AVICHAN!


_**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hetalia or anything Vocaloid.**_

_**Warning(s):**_

_**Minor cursing**_

_**And listen to the song and read this fic at your own risk O . o… BE PREPARED TO CRY IF YOU DECIDE TO DO BOTH AT THE SAME TIME. (link is at the bottom of the end note.)**_

_**This is a request from Avichan~! I hope I meet your expectations! **_

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><p><em>These poems spelling my love for you,<em>

_I've been sending them for fifteen years straight,_

_And I still haven't got a reply._

_And I still haven't got a reply…_

_-Miku Hatsune_

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><p>I watered the tree with a smile on my face, a tree that <em>we'd<em> planted together. If I thinking back on it… it might have been our child! I grinned widely at the ridiculous joke I had just made; it really was a beautiful day at Hetalia Academy, the sun was shining, the birds were chirping…

_But…_

I frowned.

_My _sun wasn't there.

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><p>I remember the first year I was rather reckless.<p>

I wrote every day to him without fail; Arthur Kirkland. My Artie… I would sit down every day and write love poems to him; I'd right all my feelings to him with a smile on my face. I licked one of my many stamps of the British flag and put it on the back of the letter before sealing it – yes, before you ask Artie is British; and _no _that does _not_ make me a stalker! Stalkers are uncool! I'm a _hero_!

I smiled to myself as I imagined his cute face, ridiculously thick caterpillar like eyebrows… pale skin from lack of sun and growing up in the rainy city of London… And he'd always look at me with that same cute little pout on his face whenever I'd tease him… I was so in love I didn't know what to do!

Anyway, that year I send exactly 365 letters packed with every single feeling I felt for Arthur.

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><p>The second year I wasn't much different, I became rather oblivious now that I think about it… so much in fact that I didn't notice it when my house caught fire. I continued writing, not noticing the flames licking at my feet; I don't even think I notice until my shirt caught fire actually! Even then I simply sealed the envelope and hopped out of the window before the fire could burn me much more. Landing gracefully on my feet after jumping out of the second story window, I licked a stamp and pasted it to the letter.<p>

As my house burned to the ground I smiled slightly and headed towards the post office.

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><p>The third year I calmed down a bit.<p>

After I house burned down I began living in a tent… yeah, pathetic for a hero like me huh? But putting that aside, I decided to reach into the wonderful world of literature! Why? Because I should be the one to reach out to the young people of today! Why you ask? Because I'm a hero of course!

I began publishing some of my love poems to Artie online that year; my subscribers hit a record breaking number… I couldn't believe it! People actually _liked _my sappy ass poems, man was that awesome!

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><p>The fourth year I felt proud enough to submit some of them to a magazine – I'd begun working as a salary man. And it was boring as hell… I wished for the entire building to burn down at certain points… This had me eventually writing about social problems and politics.<p>

Then I got this _amazing_ idea to publish my poem collection; God, I would forever remember the look on my Russian boss's face when I flicked him off and quite that job! But…

It would still be nice if I could get a reply from Artie though…

I watered the tree yet again when I went back to the school, it was growing up nicely. Leaves were sprouting healthily as I used the watering pail. HAH! And Arthur said that I wouldn't take care of it! Of course I would… this plant… was our child after all…

I chuckled and went to put away the pail.

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><p>By the fifth year I was pretty famous; I could have any woman in the world right now!<p>

However, because of how faithful I am to my precious Artie they may as well have been rotten fruits compared to him~. I flashed my signature 'hero smile' at press conferences; I even let them try and guess who the love poems were actually meant for.

I nearly scoffed at some of the guesses.

Who the hell ever said Artie was a _girl_?

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><p>In the sixth year I think I died.<p>

Or well… something close to it.

Everything just sort of crashed down on me at once. Artie, the deadlines, just… life; I stayed in bed for like a month sick from a stress fever, and for the longest time I slipped into a slump. I'd already exceeded the 2,000 mark poem wise – and not a single one had received a reply…

Everything hurt that year; my body hurt, my head hurt, my _heart was in a state of agony_.

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><p>The seventh year I recovered quick as lightning!<p>

I thought of all kinds of things to compare Artie to; I remember comparing him to strong yet weak things – like iron over a cliff, or maybe something complex… My fans were glad to have me back though, (not that I cared.)

The eighth year hadn't changed me at all though, I kept up my new style of comparing things to Artie; it was really fun! I think I even compared him to an undefeated sumo wrestler at one point…

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><p>The ninth year I was hit by a truck.<p>

I was heading down to the post office when suddenly this idiot ran a red light – hit me head on at the cross walk.

When I came to I was in a hospital, I didn't remember a damn thing… what was my name again…? I cocked my head to the side. Who… is that… face in my mind…? 'A'… 'A'… something 'A'…

Artie?

No… _Arthur_.

The person I love. Yes, Arthur…

According to the doctors I had received a severe blow to the head which caused my memories to be wiped clean. But… I was fine with that… because I still remembered the thing most precious to me.

Little to my knowledge, at that time –mine and Arthur's 'child' – was full grown.

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><p>Throughout the tenth and eleventh years my memory never did return.<p>

Even so I kept a bright smile on my face and still remembered my love for this 'Artie' of mine. I continued to write my poems and send them in the mail. I couldn't wait to get a reply!

… But… during the twelfth and thirteenth years too… I never got a reply; my memory didn't come back either. I watched blankly from the window as a rather bubbly Italian and a stern looking German walked by – they were a couple. I could tell that much. By the way the auburn haired man hung onto the blonde's arm and the way them looked into each other's eyes it was pretty obvious. I… wished I could have that with Arthur…

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><p>The fourteenth year was the worst.<p>

My memory still wasn't back. And every day was filled with anxiety and uncertainty; I hid under my covers like a coward, shaking like a leaf. Why wouldn't he reply! I wanted to see him, I wanted to tell this 'Arthur' the things in my heart…!

"A-Arthur…" before I even registered anything I was running out into the cold winter air; heading for the post office. That day, I wasn't watching the street lights.

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><p>On the fifteenth year my memory came back.<p>

It came like a dam giving way to a flood; memories both happy and sad flowed from my head. My eyes widened as I shook.

"_Alfred!"_

"_You Git! It's 'ate' not 'eats'!"_

"_W-What the bloody hell are you doing!"_

"_Sod off!"_

"… _Fine whatever; I'll watch the damn movie with you!" _

"_W… What… the bloody… h-hell… are you crying for… I'll be fine… you'll see…" _

Tears formed in my eyes, I didn't particularly care about looking cool or heroic at the moment. I just wanted to cry. One after another the tears fell; I clutched tightly at my heart as the hiccups turned to sobs and the sobs turned to wails.

Because now I remembered why he wouldn't reply to my letters…

Arthur Kirkland… had died fifteen years ago…

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><p>The tree had been mowed down, and our 'child' was dead.<p>

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><p>I had thought that maybe if I continued sending them to Artie, they'd somehow reach him someday… So I constantly mailed them to his address; hoping for some sort of a miracle. I feel like such an idiot now… I stupidly continued to send him letters even though I knew I would never hear a reply; Arthur was now forever away from my sight… I couldn't see him anymore, I couldn't talk to him anymore, we couldn't argue anymore.<p>

Even so I couldn't stop loving him

When I lost my memory I really did believe that we would see each other again… but instead… it felt as if you were disappearing from my life all over again… I slowly walked over to the dead tree and closed my eyes. For sixteen years; I'd sent all my feelings straight to Arthur in form of poem. I'd waited for a reply that I knew would never come.

Dropping to my knees beside the tree I began to dig, even as cuts appeared on my hands, even as dirt formed under my nails I dug until I finally found it. It was his letter, Arthur's final letter that was addressed to _me_.

Excessive tears slide down my cheeks rapidly as I held the letter protectively to my chest. "A-Arthur…" I whimpered brokenly, "I miss you so much…"

I don't know for how long I sat there – just crying. But then I felt a hand on my shoulder, "Hey, are you alright?"

My head snapped towards the familiar voice, sure enough, there stood the blonde, thick eye brows, fifteen year old Briton as I remembered him. "Arthur…"

"Huh? Who the bloody hell are you and why do you know my name." the boy flinched back as I suddenly broke into a bright smile.

"Heh, sorry about that, let's start over alright?" I held out my hand. "Nice to meet cha' name's Alfred f. Jones; at your service!"

Arthur rubbed his temples, "First of all, it's "Nice _to _meet you", you stupid git and –" the teen looked at my funny. "Why the bloody hell are you laughing? Weren't you just _crying _a few minutes ago?"

The older blonde grinned, "No, no, it's nothing, you just remind me of someone is all." I suddenly caught my dear sweet Artie in a tight embrace; now that I had found him again I wouldn't let go. Seeming to realize I needed it he awkwardly patted my back. Finally when I pulled back I grinned at the blush on his cheeks.

"So who may I ask do I remind you of?" he asked sheepishly, straightening out the familiar uniform.

I smiled softly as I looked up into the blue, blue, sky. "You remind me of someone who I used to love…"

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><p><em><strong>AN: I CRIED. BE GRATEFUL AVICHAN! *sniffles* Anyway I hoped you guys enjoyed the fic for avichan, she wanted an angsty oneshot for USUK as her reward for being 100**__**th**__** reviewer on my other Hetalia story "War is like a Thin Layer of Ice"… This was based on yet another letter song by Hatsune Miku "15 Years of Pursuing a Cute Boy". Oh gawd… I feel so horrible right now… Please review TT . TT Now excuse me while I go take a moment to look in the mirror and CRY. Oh, and please ignore the typos I will go back and fix those later XDD  
><strong>_

_**Link to Song:**_

_**http : / / www . youtube . com / watch?v=rPAZO7PI7Y0 **_

_**(Don't forget to remove the spaces.)**_


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